PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader x connor storrie
WARNINGS: intentional use of lowercase, no use of y/n
GENRE: fluff
PLAYLIST: here
WORD COUNT: 805
NOTE: lowkey wanna make a series out of this . . .
navigation | request | two is infact better than one masterlist
thatβs the thing about the globes. every five steps, someone stops you. a producer you havenβt seen in years. a reporter who remembers a quote you gave once and will never let it go. a camera swiveling toward you the second you slow down.
youβre midway through another interview when it happens.
the interviewer. bright smile, mic angled, tilts her head toward the carpet behind you. βso, we have to ask. heated rivalry has basically taken over the internet. have you watched it and if you did, did you like it?β
you blink. then your face lights up.
βdid i like it?β you repeat, already laughing. βi loved it.β
the interviewer grins, clearly pleased. βyeah?β
βoh, i binged it in less than a day,β you ramble. βlike, canceled plans, phone on silent, unwell about it.β
somewhere just off to your left, you're oblivious that hudson is mid interview himself, glances over, already slightly smirking to himself. he knows where this is going.
βthe chemistry,β you continue, hands coming up as you talk, animated now. βthatβs what got me. it wasnβt just tension for tensionβs sake, you know? there was so much chemistry. like, the way they looked at each other-β
you cut yourself off, laughing. βsorry. iβm getting too into this.β
βno, please,β the interviewer says. βgo on.β
βit just hooked me,β you nod, βi donβt even know how to explain it. you start one episode thinking youβll stop halfway and then suddenly itβs four in the morning and youβre like, what am i supposed to do with myself now?β
the camera zooms slightly closer.
βand,β you add, turning fully toward the lens now, eyes sparkling with mischief, βi am formally begging. publicly. on record. please cast me in season two.β
the interviewer laughs, βoh?β
βi donβt care if itβs a small scene,β you insist, clasping your hands dramatically. βiβll be a random girl in the background. iβll do something embarrassing. iβll do anything.β
you glance straight into the camera again, completely unserious and fully committed. βcall me.β
hudson actually snorts from his interview, shaking his head.
youβre still smiling when movement catches your eye, someone passing just by you. tall. dark suit. familiar face.
connor storrie.
your brain short circuits instantly.
βoh my god, wait, connor,β you blurt, turning completely away from the interview without hesitation.
the interviewer looks momentarily startled as you call out, βhi! hi, sorry, hi!β
connor stops mid step, clearly surprised. his face breaks into a grin the second he realises youβre talking to him.
βhey,β he acknowledges, laughing a little, stepping closer.
you donβt even think, you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to get his attention fully. βhi. iβm so sorry, iβm being rude, iβm mid interview, but i wanted to say hi.β
he laughs, shaking his head. βno, itβs okay, hi to you too.β
he leans in and pulls you into a quick side hug, arm warm and around your shoulders. itβs brief, cameras immediately swing toward the two of you.
βgood to see you,β his words quiet against your ear.
βyou too,β you reply, beaming up at him. βseriously.β
he gives a little nod, still smiling, before letting you go and continuing on toward his own interview spot.
the second heβs gone, you turn back toward the camera, pressing a hand to your chest dramatically.
βiβm fine,β you announce, βwoo! i'm totally fine.β
the interviewer laughs, βyou alright?β
you fan yourself with your hand, a little over the top. βit should be illegal.β
βwhat should?β
you glance between where connor disappeared and now realising where hudson is doing his own interview a few feet away, then back to the camera.
βis it weird if i say that they both smell and look so good?β you fangirl, βitβs actually unfair to the rest of us.β
βi mean,β you continue, grinning, βhow is anyone else supposed to compete with that? i walked onto this carpet confident and now iβm just-β
you flutter your hand again, mock dazed.
βruined,β the interviewer finishes for you.
βruined,β you confirm.
hudson glances over again, catching the tail end of your dramatics. he watches you with an amused, fond smile, completely unaware that he's just watched you just publicly sing his praises.
βand final question,β the interviewer says, still smiling. βif you were cast in season twoβ¦ who would you want scenes with?β
you donβt even hesitate.
βboth,β you blurt out, βtogether, preferably.β
the interviewer laughs as the segment wraps, thanking you. you step back, still riding the buzz, cheeks warm, heart thudding.
as you finally move toward the ballroom entrance, hudson finishes his interview too, catching up to you as you go and take your pictures.
walking side by side with you now, he raises his brows, amused. βdid i hear my show just got aggressively promoted?β
PAIRING: benjamin poindexter x gn!reader
WARNINGS: intentional lowercase, no use of y/n, established relationship
GENRE: fluff, slight angst
SONG INSPIRATION: lost with you by patrick watson
WORD COUNT: 599
NAVIGATION | REQUEST | BENJAMIN POINDEXTER MASTERLIST
youβd always woken up a little before dex, especially when neither of you had set an alarm for the next morning, it was one of those mornings.
the longer you sleep beside him, the more you seem to notice about him. one of those things was that he never really looked peaceful when he slept, not fully. even now there was tension tucked into him, jaw faintly set, brows just barely drawn together like he couldn't seem to bring himself to relax even whilst he was resting.Β
one hand rested close to his chest, fingers curled loosely into the sheets, your chest ached at the sight of him, as much as people had to say about dex, heβd gone through more than anyone should have to carry. things that carved themselves into a person. even when he smiled, even when he tried, you could still catch the shadow of it behind his eyes.
but right now he was here. safe and warm with you. you shifted carefully onto your side, propping yourself up on an elbow as you looked down at him. a strand of his hair had fallen over his forehead. you brushed it back gently, fingertips barely touching his skin.
he didnβt wake, so you lean down, pressing the lightest kiss to his forehead. then another to the corner of his brow, another to the bridge of his nose, his breathing changed just slightly, deeper then slower, but he stayed asleep.
a smile tugged at your mouth, you kissed one closed eyelid, then the other. his lips twitched faintly, you like to think that somewhere in sleep he knew exactly what was happening but didnβt mind one bit.
you kissed over the line of his cheekbone, then the other side, trailing affection over every place you could possibly reach, wanting to try to rewrite every cruel thing the world had ever handed him.
βyou deserve everything good,β you whispered against his skin, another kiss to his jaw. βyou deserve softness.β another beside his mouth, βyou deserve to be loved.β saying it quietly into him even though he couldnβt hear youβ¦ well thatβs what you thought.
this time when you leaned in again, his hand caught your jaw gently, your breath hitched. benjaminβs eyes were half open, sleep heavy, lashes low over them. he looked up at you with sleepy confusion, softened by exhaustion.
βhow long,β his voice rough with sleep, he cleared his throat a little, βhave you been attacking me?β you laughed under your breath. βlong enough.βΒ
his thumb brushed your lower cheek where he held you. βi was aware.β
βoh, were you?β
βmhm.β his eyes slipped shut again for a second. βdidnβt want you to stop.β you got giddy all over again, bending down to kiss him properly this time, catching his lips with your own, happily savouring the moment. when you pulled back, his arm came around your back, hand sliding lower until it found your ass, squeezing as he dragged you closer.Β
βyou know,β you murmured, brushing your nose against his, βi plan on doing this every morning.β
he swallowed thickly before speaking up, βno oneβs ever done that before.β the room felt like it went still. you touched his face, thumb smoothing over the line of his cheek. βthen they were incredibly stupid.β
for a second something flickered across his face, that disbelief he always had when your kindness reached for him, never quite knowing what to do with it. it didnβt take him long to tug you down against him, burying his face in your shoulder as he held you tighter.
PAIRING: hudson williams x female!reader x connor storrie
WORD COUNT: 809
navigation | request | two is infact better than one masterlist
the night doesnβt end all at once, it thins out.
one goodbye bleeds into another, arms around shoulders, fingers squeezing wrists a little longer than necessary. everyoneβs riding that strange post award high. champagne breath, mascara smudges, laughter that comes a second too late.Β
you keep smiling because itβs second nature by now, because you love these people, because youβre good at this.
but your head is pounding.
by the time your manager leans in and whispers, βweβll take the back,β you donβt even hesitate to stand up. you nod, relief washing through you as security tightens around your sides, steering you away from the main exit.Β
you adore fans, always have, but paparazzi at the end of a night like this arenβt worth the riskΒ . theyβre impatient and pushy cause theyβre also all tired and need to get paid.
the back of the venue is quieter and much cooler. a service alley lit by soft yellow bulbs and the glow of idling cars. your driver is already there, the door open, waiting on you.
you take a breath. one more step and youβll finally be done for the night.
βhey- wait up!β
you flinch, heart jumping as you turn.
hudson and connor come into view, jogging toward you, connors tie is crooked. connorβs hair has fallen out of whatever careful styling it had earlier. both of them are slightly out of breath, hands braced on their thighs for a second as they stop.
you blink, then laugh.
βoh my god,β you breathe out, half amused, half startled. βi thought i was about to get yelled at.β
connor laughs too, shaking his head. βyeah, no. sorry. we didnβt mean to scare you.β
hudson straightens, rolling his shoulders as if heβs trying to calm himself. βwe justβ¦uh- didnβt want to miss you.β
you glance between them, smiling softening. βeverything okay?β
thereβs a pause. hudson looks at connor. connor looks back. hudson exhales. βwe were wonderingβ¦ if we could get your number.β
connor nods quickly, βonly if youβre comfortable. just to stay in touch.β
the honesty of it, catches you off guard in the best way.
βyeah,β you blurt out without thinking, βof course, thatβd be lovely.β
the tension in their shoulders visibly releases.
connor hands you his phone first, then hudson does the same. you take them both, thumbs moving easily as you type your name and number into each. you donβt rush it, thereβs no reason to.
when you give their phones back, hudson glances down at the screen then back up at you.
βthank you,β you shrug lightly, βiβd have been disappointed if you didnβt ask.β
that makes connor laugh under his breath.
for a second, none of you speak. the alley hums softly, the distant crowd, an engine idling, the muted clink of someone packing equipment inside the venue.
you step forward before you can overthink it.
connorβs closest. heβs taller enough that your arms slide around his middle, your cheek brushing the front of his jacket as you lean in. the hug is brief but warm, the kind that says thank you for being kind to me tonight.
his hands come to rest lightly at your back, careful, respectful, he only pulls away when he feels you do it first. his head dipping instinctively.
as you separate, he turns just enough to press a quick kiss to your cheek, soft and unassuming, it happens on reflex rather than intention.
then youβre turning toward hudson.
you fit into him a little differently. one arm loops around his shoulders, the other settling at his side as you lean in, closer than you need to be. he stills for half a second before his arms come around you, slower this time.. you feel the warmth of him through his silk shirt, the way his chest rises.
when you pull back, he does too, eyes dropping briefly before lifting again, thatβs when he leans in, brushing a kiss to your other cheek as you separate. it lingers only a fraction longer than connorβs, this one very much intentional.
you step back with a smile you donβt quite bother hiding, heart still humming, that same quiet infatuation curling in your chest, the one youβd felt all night, watching them, feeling oddly seen.
βgoodnight,β you bid them, βgoodnight,β they echo.
hudson smiles at you, βmake sure to let us know when you get home safe.β
you nod, stepping into the car, sharing one final look as the door closes behind you.
neither of you notice the figure a few yards away, half hidden behind a van. their phone still angled as they stopped recording the video.
by the time your car disappears down the street, the moment is no longer just yours and by morning, it wonβt matter how βinnocentβ it was.Β
the internet will decide what all of it really meantβ¦
PAIRING: hudson williams x fem!reader x connor storrie
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, intentional lowercase
GENRE: fluff
PLAYLIST: here
WORD COUNT: 1k
NOTE: i have no reason to be making series and taking this long to update, im sooo sorry, thought i'd post this to tide you over! cause i'm strugglinnnggg to think of where this should go lmao
navigation | request | two is infact better than one masterlist | part one | next
it had been about a week since you last heard from connor or hudson. a week since the event, since youβd nervously typed your number into their phones. at the time, it had seemed like a good idea, low pressure, but now, sitting at your kitchen counter, you were starting to rethink everything.
your phone buzzed in your pocket. you jumped, stomach dropping, only to see it was a notification from instagram, a post your friend tagged you in. you sighed, disappointed. you really had tried to be nonchalant about it at first.
#youβd told yourself you wouldnβt check every five minutes, that youβd focus on work, on emails, on literally anything else, but somehow, that had lasted exactly two days.
now, even with your schedule packed, the anxiety was very much still there, you couldnβt shake it. you caught yourself glancing at your phone again. you had counted, at least, fifteen times in the past ten minutes. your thumb hovered over the screen ready to unlock and check for a new message. any message.
a small part of you tried to reason it out. βitβs only been a week,β you muttered to yourself, staring out the window as you sipped on your tea. βtheyβre busy. youβre busy. itβs late, itβs fine.β but it didnβt feel fine. it felt like your brain had turned against you, the wait really was killing you.
the exposure that you had gotten online after that night shouldβve been enough to distract you.
your interview clip had somehow become the clip. edits of your interactions with the three of you. people dissecting your answers, your follower count had jumped overnight. your publicist had sent three different emails with subject lines in all caps.
it was good. really good.
but none of it stopped you from checking your phone again and again. youβd told yourself you just have to be patient. then again you didnβt want to have misread that night. the touches, the kisses on your cheeks, the hugs at the end of the night.
maybe theyβd just been caught up in the atmosphere, hell maybe you had been too.
you exhale slowly and force your phone face down on the counter. tomorrow you have a photoshoot anyway. big brand, big opportunities, you need sleep, not to be up spiraling.
the studio air smells faintly like hairspray and coffee. youβre ushered from makeup to wardrobe with gentle hands guiding your elbows, stylists murmuring about lighting and fabric drape. the space is bright, aggressively white and the music playing over the speakers echoes throughout the room.
you slip into work mode easily, itβs muscle memory by now. your chin angled, shoulders dropped, eyes softened just enough to look candid. the photographer moves around you in slow arcs, camera clicking in sharp bursts.Β
the photographer lowers his camera slightly, studying you for a second before lifting his hand.
βhold that.β you freeze mid motion, eyes lifted through your lashes. your fingers are hooked loosely into the hem of the sweater, shoulder tilted toward the light. the fan blows air towards you, pushing your hair back just enough to expose your jawline.
βbeautiful,β he murmurs, circling you slowly.
he steps closer, not touching at first. just gesturing. βturn your body slightly- yeah, give me more of this side.β
you shift your weight onto your back foot, hip angling subtly as your shoulders rotate. the sweater slips a fraction lower down your arm and the stylist moves in quickly, adjusting it with careful fingers before stepping away again.
βgood. relax your mouth,β he suggests, tapping his own lip as demonstration, which made you smile quickly before snapping back into professionalism.
you part yours slightly, exhaling through them so your expression softens. your hand slides from the hem of the sweater to your collarbone, fingertips brushing lightly across your skin absentmindedly. the camera clicks rapidly.
βchin up. not that much-Β there. stay right there.β
he steps forward then, gently placing two fingers beneath your jaw to tilt it a few degrees toward the light. itβs brief and professional, his touch gone as quickly as it came. you follow the direction instinctively, arching your neck just enough to elongate the line.
βyes! thatβs it.β
the music shifts to something slower. you roll your shoulders back between frames, letting tension drop. on the next cue, you pivot fully, giving him your side profile. one hand slips into the pocket of the jeans theyβve styled you in.
between outfit changes, you step off set and reach automatically for your phone.
still nothing. you swallow it down, the disappointment, the tiny sting in your chest .
itβs fine, you tell yourself again.Β
by midday, youβre in your fourth look. softer lighting now, warmer tones, your makeup slightly smudged on purpose for the look. youβre leaning against a backdrop when your assistant hurries toward you, weaving around cables and light stands.
βsorry,β she apologises quietly, holding your phone out. βi think youβll want to take this.β
your heart stutters before you even get a good look at it, your fingers clumsy as you unlock the screen. seeing that youβve been added into a new groupchat.
connor: hi. iβm hoping it isnβt too late to text you
hudson: weβve been arguing about who should message first for a week. sooo heyy
the breath you let out is shaky, almost embarrassing in itβs relief.
βeverything okay?β the photographer calls from behind the camera. you canβt stop smiling. βyeah, actually.β you call back softly as your thumbs move quickly to reply back.
you: i was starting to think you two forgot about me
the typing bubble appears almost instantly.
hudson: we absolutely did not forget
connor: we just didnβt want to seem too eager
a quiet laugh escapes you, and you press your lips together to try and hide it as the stylist comes in to adjust your sleeve again.
hudson: are you busy today?
you glance up at the lights, the camera, the team moving around you.
you: photoshoot. trying to look professional
connor: when are you free?
you hesitate only long enough to feel your pulse in your fingertips.
you: tonight maybe?
you: wait whyy?
thereβs a minute where they're typing, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for their reply.
connor: we were hoping youβd say that
you lower your phone slowly, staring at nothing for a second as the warmth spreads through you, not anxiety this time. something more anticipatory.
βready?β the photographer asks. you straighten your shoulders, handing your phone back to your giddy manager, step back under the lights, and this time when the camera flashes, your smile is anything but fake.
PAIRING: robert robertson x fem!reader
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, fwb
GENRE: fluff, suggestive?
PLAYLIST: here
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
REQUESTED: yes
NOTE: pretend he has his own office in this one
navigation | request | robert robertson masterlist
youβre slumped in your usual seat at the briefing table, listening to malevola and sonar bicker in the corner, the others doing their own thing, youβre picking at the label on your coffee, when robert finally walks in.
he's carrying a pink box from the bakery three blocks over.
thereβs a wave of surprise that moves through the room. robert is many things but he is not a bring in donuts kind of superior. but here he is, setting the box down with a thud. βhelp yourselves,β he announces, his voice lacking it's usual undertone of impatience.
as the team descends on the pastries, you hang back, a smugness spreading through your chest. you know this version of robert.
youβve become intimately familiar with it over the past few weeks. this is the robert whoβs been sleeping properly. the one whose shoulders have lost their permanent defensive hunch.
the one who, just last night, had you pinned against your apartment door, his mouth hot on your neck, whispering things that were decidedly not safe for work.
youβre not dating. itβs an arrangement, mutually beneficial for the both of you.
the meeting drones on, but the atmosphereβs lighter. people are actually engaging for once. halfway through, flambae leans back in his chair, smirk already tugging at his mouth. βso, robert,β he drawls, voice thick with amusement.
βnot to get all touchy feely or anything, but youβve been in an awfully good mood lately. new skincare routine? secret hobby? orβ¦β his grin widens, eyes flicking toward you before landing back on robert,
βsomeone keeping you well rested?β he taps the donut box with a finger.Β βthese are a nice touch, by the way.β
a few people chuckle in agreement. robert, who is now standing at the head of the table, doesnβt stiffen or scowl like you might have expected. a faint flush creeps up his neck, but he manages a tight smile.
βif we can return our focus to what's actually important,β he deflects, smoothly steering the conversation back to safer waters.
but his eyes, for just a fraction of a second, flicker to you.
you bring your coffee to your lips, hiding the proud smirk that threatens to split your face. you take a slow, deliberate sip, your eyes locked with his over the rim of the cup. you donβt blink. you just let the smug satisfaction shine through, a silent message just for him.
your look screams, βi did this.β we did this. this is all because of me.
he holds your eyes for a moment too long, his professional face firmly in place, but you see the crack in the facade. you see the way his jaw tightens, just a little, in the way he slightly bites his bottom lip.
he looks away first, turning to the screen, but the tips of his ears are still pink.
the meeting continues, but for you, thereβs now a strong tension pulling at you two. every time he speaks, you remember how his voice had dropped to a murmur as his lips brushed your neck.
every time he gestures with his hands, you recall the feel of those same fingers feeling on your skin.Β
you can tell he's really trying to keep it together. you're at work for crying out loud. still, you canβt pretend itβs not a little entertaining, knowing that heβs probably replaying the way you bit his shoulder to keep quiet last night.
finally, he dismisses everyone with a βthatβs all.β chairs scrape back, and the room stirs with the low shuffle and chatter of everyone leaving.
you take your time, gathering your stuff and the now empty coffee cup, letting the crowd thin. robert is pretending to be engrossed in shutting down the projector, his back to the room.
this is your moment.
you walk towards the door, but instead of leaving, you hover just outside in the hallway, out of sight from the glass of the doors. as he emerges, phone in hand, you reach out, your fingers curling gently but firmly around his wrist. he freezes, his head snapping towards you.
βa word, sir?β an innocent purr that doesnβt match the intent in your eyes.
his gaze darts down the hall, confirming itβs empty. βthis isnβt-β he starts, his tone all business, but youβre already pulling him into the small, dim supply closet two doors down. itβs a tight fit, filled with the smell of old paper and toner.
the door clicks shut, plunging you into near darkness, a single sliver of light from under the door cutting across his face. his professional stance is gone, replaced by a startled anticipation.
βwhat are you doing?β he whispers, but not really in protest.
you donβt bother answering. instead, you push him back until he hits the shelf of printer paper, your hands sliding up his neck to catch his face and you kiss him.
nothing soft, itβs possessive, something of the kiss version of that smug little smile you wore all throughout the meeting.Β
a wordless reminder to him that this was exactly why he was in such a good mood.
it takes him a second to register your touch, but with a low groan he breaks. his hands wrap around you, one hand tangling in your hair, the other splaying against the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.
he kisses you back with the same desperation. his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting of coffee and the faint sugar from the donuts.
this is the robert you know. not your boss, not your dispatcher, but the one who comes undone beneath you. you can feel the frantic beat of his heart as his chest pressed against yours.
when you finally break apart, youβre both breathing heavily, the sound loud in the confined space.
you rest your forehead against his, your smug smile returning, now pressed against his lips. βso,β you whisper, βthe donuts were a nice touch.β
he huffs a quiet, breathless laugh, his thumb stroking your cheek. βshut up,β he murmurs, but thereβs no heat in it, pressing another kiss to your mouth.
βwe canβt stay in here,β he gets out after another moment, his voice regaining a sliver of its usual command, though itβs thoroughly undermined by the fact that heβs still holding you tightly against him.
βi know,β you agree, not moving an inch.
he steals one last, quick kiss. βugh fine! my office. five minutes.β
he disentangles himself, smooths down his tie, and slips out the door, leaving you alone in the dark. you lean back against the shelves, a slow grin spreading across your face. you can still taste him on your lips.
PAIRING: gally x fem!reader
WARNINGS: injured reader, no use of y/n
GENRE: angst, fluff
SONG INSPIRATION: honest by the neighbourhood
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
navigation | ask | gally masterlist
the sound of your ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of your feet against the concrete echoed in your ears. minho was just ahead, his movements sharp as the two of you darted through the maze, weaving between the looming stone walls.Β
the sky above was beginning to darken, the first sign that the walls would soon begin to shift, and with it, the grievers would come.
and they did.
you heard it first. a mechanical whir, a deep, guttural churning of metal and flesh, followed by the distinct clicking of sharpened legs skittering against the stone. it sent a chill through you, instinct roaring louder than thought.
you shoved minho forward just as the griever lunged from the shadows, its grotesque, writhing body twisting through the narrow passage with terrifying speed.
"go!" you shouted, voice raw with urgency.
minho barely had time to react, stumbling forward before catching himself. he turned back, eyes wide with frustration and fear, but you were already moving, already twisting out of the way.
the griever's jagged limb sliced through the air where you had just been, missing you by mere inches. but you weren't fast enough.
the force of itβs swing still caught your side, a brutal impact that sent you flying backward. your body slammed against a wall with a thud. an explosion of pain ripped through your torso.
the breath was stolen from your lungs, your vision momentarily darkening at the edges as you crumpled to the ground in a heap.
everything felt like it had slowed, your senses dulled by the sharp sting in your head where it had struck the wall. warmth trickled down your face, sticky and thick, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth as you gasped for air.
the pain in your side throbbed in sync with your heartbeat, and when you tried to push yourself up, a sharp spike of agony shot through your ankle.
twisted? maybe worse.
"shuck!" minho's voice was a distant roar, his footsteps slamming against the ground as he skidded to a stop beside you. he didnβt hesitate. his hands grasping your arm, yanking you up with a force that nearly sent another wave of nausea rolling through you.
"get up," he snapped, voice tight with urgency. "we gotta move, now!"
"iβ" your words barely leaving your lips before he was throwing your arm over his shoulder, all but hauling you forward.
your legs screamed in protest, your ankle a burning mess, but there was no time to complain. the griever let out a horrible, guttural screech, its body dragging itself toward you with terrifying speed. its bladed legs glinted under the fading light, rising to strike again.
minho didn't slow. "come on, come on, come onβ"
each step was agony, but the sight of the gladeβs walls ahead sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through your veins. safety was right there. you just had to make it.
minho was half dragging you now, your injured leg barely keeping up, but he didnβt let go. he didnβt let you fall. he kept moving, kept running, even as the shriek of the griever grew louder behind you, too close, too fast.
and thenβ.
the moment the two of you stumbled past the threshold, the stone doors groaned, their deep rumbling echoing through the maze. dust and debris rained down as the massive slabs of rock slammed shut with a final, deafening boom.
silence.
the maze was sealed. the horrors locked away behind stone and shadow, for now.
your knees buckled, body trembling with exhaustion, but minho kept you upright, his grip tight as he gasped for breath beside you. his chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face as he turned to look at you. his expression was tense, jaw clenched, but his eyes. his eyes burned with something fierce. relief. frustration.
"you okay?" he panted, though he didnβt need to ask.
you swallowed hard, still dazed, still struggling to process the fact that youβd made it. that you were alive.
you opened your mouth to answer, but your vision blurred at the edges, black spots dancing in your peripheral vision. the blood still dripped down your temple, the weight of exhaustion was unbearable.
"help! someone get jeff, now!"
the darkness swallowed you whole, you barely registered the weightlessness of your body, the sounds around you becoming distant echoes. but there was something keeping you upright, something solid, something warm.
hands.
strong, steady hands gripping your shoulder and your leg, the person shook you. not rough, but firm enough to fight against the pull of unconsciousness.
βdonβt you dare.β
the voice cut through the haze, it filled with desperation. the grip on you tightened, grounding you, keeping you from slipping any further.
βstay with me, shuck face.β
your eyelids fluttered, the effort to keep them open unbearable, but that voice, it had a hold on you.
then everything went dark.
when you finally stirred, your body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and pain. the first thing you registered was the dull ache in your head, the lingering sting of your injuries. the second was the warmth of somebody beside you.
your eyes cracked open, slow and sluggish, blinking against the dim light. the familiar wooden beams of the med-jack hut swam into view, followed by the scratchy feeling of blankets pulled over you.
and then, him.
gally.
he was right there, sitting at your bedside, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as if he was holding himself back. but the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched, told you everything.
at the sound of your breath hitching, his head snapped up. the moment his eyes met yours, something flickered across his face. relief, frustration, something deeper.
βyouβre real stubborn, ya know that?β he muttered, voice hoarse.
you tried to swallow, your throat dry. βnice to see you too.β
but gally wasnβt amused. he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. βwhat the hell were you thinking?β his voice was rough, almost fearful.
your body still ached, but you managed a small, tired smile. βdidnβtβ¦ have much of a choice.β
he scoffed. βyeah? βcause from where i was standing, it looked like you ran straight into danger like a damn slinthead.β
you sighed, shifting slightly. βwe had to get back.β
βthatβs the problem,β he snapped, leaning forward. βyou didnβt think. you couldβve died.β
his voice cracked at the end, just slightly, but enough for you to notice. you blinked at him, your exhaustion making everything feel distant, yet gally, he was the only thing that felt real.
then, like he couldnβt stop himself, he reached forward, his rough, calloused hands gripping your arm, fingers pressing into your skin. his touch was soft.
βback there,β he muttered, voice low, like he hated admitting it. βwhen you started slipping, when you almostββ he stopped, inhaling sharply through his nose.Β
you remembered. the way his hands held onto you, the desperation in his voice.
a faint smile tugged at your lips, weak but genuine. slowly, you lifted a trembling hand, brushing your fingertips against his cheek. he tensed, eyes flickering between yours, but he didnβt pull away.
βyou were worried,β you murmured.
gally let out a dry, humourless chuckle. βyeah, no klunk.β his voice softened, though the frustration still lingered. βminho came running in with you half dead, bleeding all over the damn place. of course, i was worried.β
your fingers traced lightly along his cheekbone before dropping back onto the blanket, your body too weak to do much more. but the warmth of his skin lingered on your fingertips.
βiβm okay,β you whispered.
he shook his head, exhaling deeply. βyeah.β his hand that was still wrapped around your arm, sliding down to intertwine your fingers. βyou better be.β
the exhaustion was still heavy, your body sinking into the thin makeshift mattress. but you werenβt fully out. the warmth of gallyβs hand remained, a steady reassurance even as your eyelids fluttered closed. he didnβt move right away.
you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting, like he didnβt fully trust that you were okay just yet.
then, finally, his grip loosened, but only slightly. his thumb brushed over your wrist, lingering there for a second longer before he let go.
βyou need to rest,β he muttered, voice gruff but softer than before. βdonβt pull any more stupid stunts.β
you hummed something incoherent in response, too tired to argue, he sighed knowing you werenβt really listening.
there was a shift in the room, a murmur of voices just outside the hut, and then the faint creak of the door opening. you heard the shuffle of footsteps. clintβs voice, quiet but firm.
βhow bad was it?β gallyβs voice was lower now, quieter, but still edged with worry.
βsheβll be fine,β clint replied. βbut sheβs banged up bad. twisted ankle, bruised ribs, mild concussion. jeff and i patched her up the best we could, but she needs to take it easy.β
gally let out a breath, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement. βmake sure she does,β he muttered. βdonβt let her push herself. sheβs stubborn as shuck.β
clint chuckled. βyeah, no kidding.β
βi mean it.β there was an edge to gallyβs voice now, something protective, something fierce. βbe careful with her, alright?β
there was a pause, then clintβs voice, softer this time. βyou really care about her, huh?β
silence.
you fought to keep your breathing steady, to keep yourself still, even as your heart thumped a little harder in your chest.
ββ¦just make sure sheβs okay,β gally says finally.
then, without another word, the door creaked again, and the heavy sound of his boots returned to your bedside.
you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you. there was a brief hesitation, then warmth. his warmth, as he shifted closer.Β
you felt his arm slide beneath you carefully, his other draping across your waist as he eased you against him, mindful of your injuries. his grip was firm, but gentle.
for a long moment, he was still. then he muttered, βi hope you know you scared me half to death.β
you could have answered. you could have told him you knew, that you were sorry, that you were still here. but instead, you let yourself relax against him, let his steady breathing lull you into something close to peace.Β
as his fingers absently traced soft patterns against your back, as his hold on you tightened just slightly. the mix of the feeling of his arms around you, and the distant hum of the glade outside slowly pulled you under. your eyelids fluttered, too heavy to keep open,Β
and within moments, you drifted off to sleep.
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